


a dawning

by nokomisfics



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: (Y), M/M, last fic i'm posting for today haha im so sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:42:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nokomisfics/pseuds/nokomisfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil realises that sometimes they can’t really blame the fans for shipping them together, what with all the ammunition they provide themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a dawning

**Author's Note:**

> wow a fanfic where dan and phil discuss phanfic how original go krys [creds to [kate](http://hopelesslyhowell.tumblr.com) for the beta as always, ily meme bean]

**dawning**

ˈdɔːnɪŋ/  
 _noun ; the beginning or first appearance of something._  


It’s an unusually pretty day in London. The sun’s peeking amiably out from behind a bunch of clouds spread thin across the sky, which is the most companionable shade of blue Phil’s seen it be in a  _very_  long time. He’d remark about the streets, about how the people still walk by in a perpetual rush but there’s something soft over their faces, something gentle in how they bump shoulders carelessly, but Phil wouldn’t know. Because he hasn’t been out of the flat in two days.

And he’s bloody well going to keep it that way.

It’s eight in the morning and Phil’s sitting at the window sofa, his legs drawn up to his chest, staring out through the panes but looking at nothing. He’s pretty sure his eyes are glazed over, and he feels kind of woozy in general.

The flat is eerily quiet. There’s a dent in the sofa in front of the telly, on which Phil had been sitting for the past four-ish hours. His laptop is resting beside the dent; it’s snapped shut, having died  ~~traitorously~~  eventually. An empty mug sits on the coffee table in front of the sofa. He’d fetched the mug earlier, fully intending on making coffee, but he never actually got around to doing it.

Phil’s beginning to think that Dan’s famous existential crisis is finally catching.

There’s a loud thump then. It disrupts the silence that has been encouraging Phil on his journey towards a promising crisis of his own, and he looks up. He realises it’s the sound of Dan’s bedroom door swinging shut behind him as he strides into the hall. Dan looks at the laptop on the couch and the empty coffee mug, and then at Phil. Phil blinks, bleary-eyed.

“Morning.” Dan yawns. It lasts at least four seconds. His voice is thick and low and scratchy. “Pulled an all-nighter, have you?”

Phil turns his head back to the window and mumbles, “You slept early last night.”

“Indeed I did,” Dan declares, and Phil hears him stride into the kitchen. “Would you like some breakfast?” calls Dan, but it’s followed swiftly by the sound of two bowls being set on the counter, cereal being poured into both of them, milk sloshing in after. Footsteps padding out of the kitchen. Then Dan’s waving a cereal bowl in front of his face.

Phil takes it from him with a little nod and scoots backward, allowing Dan to settle down on the other end of the window sofa. He’s always wondered at how Dan, with his long legs and pointy elbows, can fold up into a neat little size if he wants to. Dan imitates his posture, drawing his legs up to his chest, and balances his cereal bowl over his knees. He peeks at Phil in between of them.

“Midnight to one isn’t all too hard,” he says, conversationally. Phil’s ear perk up. “The hour between one and two is the hardest, passes the slowest. But once that’s past, the rest of the hours fly by. You could watch the sunrise if you’ve nothing to do, although I’d recommend coffee if you get a bit too comfortable.”

Phil feels a grin tug at the corner of his mouth. “What?”

“Just, tips.” Dan shrugs. “In case you plan on pulling more all-nighters.”

“I’m good, thanks.” Phil rolls his eyes and grabs the spoon of his cereal bowl, that he has set on the wide window ledge. He dumps a spoonful of soggy cereal into his mouth. Takes a soggy bite. Tries not to notice Dan noticing him. “So you crashed early,” he remarks, after swallowing.

“I - yeah. Was tired.” Dan scratches the back of his neck, and Phil knows he wants to add something.

“Go on.”

Dan looks out, at the pretty day London’s having. “Don’t really feel like going out today, to be honest. What’s on our schedule?”

“Nothing, actually.” Phil shrugs slowly, trying to kick away the building hope that they might have a Dan-and-Phil day today. They haven’t had one of those in long.  “Unless you want to film or something.”

Dan crafts his lips into a very subtle frown.

“Or not,” Phil prompts.

Dan laughs, shakes his head and takes a spoon of cereal into his mouth. When he grins, there are bits of flakes stuck to his teeth. He looks the most dorky Phil’s seen him look in a while. “You just want to take a day off,” accuses Dan.

Phil pokes Dan’s foot with his. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t like that.”

“On the contrary,” says Dan, who now looks rather pleased, “I’d love that.”

After they’re done with the unusually early breakfast, Dan takes their bowls to the sink and Phil pulls the windows open, letting the chilly air seep in. On cue, Dan disappears into Phil’s room and then reappears wearing a familiar oversized yellow hoodie. He’s holding another one of Phil’s hoodies in his hands, which he tosses to Phil.

They assume blogging position on the couch in front of the telly. 

“You know,” Phil says slowly, “The fandom noticed that one time I wore your hoodie in my video.”

“The fandom notices everything,” Dan rejoins absently. He doesn’t comment when Phil leans into him, staring at the laptop screen as Dan scrolls down his Tumblr dashboard. “Laptop dead?” he asks after a while.

“Died at like  _two_ ,” affirms Phil mournfully. “Traitor.”

When Dan shrugs, his shoulder hits Phil in the cheek. “Should’ve prepared more thoroughly for your all-nighter, me thinks.”

Phil cracks a grin. “Maybe you could walk me through it next time,” he suggests slyly.

“Phil!” Dan leans forward to give Phil the full benefit of his incredulousness, but his brown eyes are twinkling mischievously. “The flat can’t handle one day-zombie, it’ll  _collapse_  under two.”

“At least that’ll give our landlord something real to complain about,” mumbles Phil. Dan, whose attention has already returned to Tumblr, chuckles.

Phil likes it when Dan chuckles, he thinks. He likes the way the boy’s shoulders move up and down (this time hitting Phil in the cheek, again), and his lips part slightly, and his eyes light up even if they’re not focused on Phil. Phil likes it better when they’re focused on him, though. He wonders how they must look, leaning into each other on the sofa like this, Dan browsing the internet and Phil’s eyes half closed. He wonders how the fandom would react if Dan put a selfie of himself on Instagram right now, wearing Phil’s jumper and looking rather rumpled and comfy.

He can imagine the comments already:

_Phan is real omfg_  
DAN IS THAT PHIL’S BIRTHDAY HOODIE  
how dare u dAN NO  
fucking kiss already thank

A sleepy grin dances across his face. Sometimes they can’t really blame the fans for shipping them together, what with all the ammunition they provide themselves.

“Phil. Wake  _up_ , you bloody oaf. I’m making lunch.”

“You’re  _what_?” The absurd idea in itself is what jolts Phil into consciousness. He blinks blearily up at Dan, on whose shoulder his head is now resting.

“You were drooling.”

Phil’s jaw drops, but he starts laughing. “I was  _not_ ,” he objects, rubbing at his eyes.

Dan reaches out to flatten Phil’s hair, which has been mucked up in his sleep. It’s not unusual, but Phil still finds himself leaning into his touch. “Pizza?” suggests Dan.

Phil smirks. “Thought you were  _making_  lunch.”

Dan thinks hard, then says: “Well, I  _made_  the payment to the company that gives us a functioning telephone line so that I can call up the pizza place.” When Phil cocks an eyebrow, Dan suggests meekly, “I could make a salad?”

“We don’t have any carrots for the salad.”

“Then you can get dressed and go fetch the  _bloody_ carrots,” suggests Dan laughingly.

Phil pulls on his best I’m-affronted-by-this-mindless-suggestion-how-dare-you-Daniel face. “But  _you’re_  the one who proposed making the salad in the first place!”

Dan jumps to his feet and pulls Phil up with him. “And  _you’re_  the one who drooled all over me,” he says loudly, giving Phil an almighty push towards his room. “And that single act of foolishness - ” Dan’s eyes widen comically “ - deserves a cruel penalty.”

“And I suppose this cruel penalty involves me nipping down to the store to buy carrots?” asks Phil drily.

Dan ponders for a moment. “And milk. We’re rather out of it.”

Phil gives in after another minute of bickering, because Dan looks rather pitiable and he’s already halfway to the telephone. When Phil’s dressed and out of the apartment, he tweets:

**@danisnotonfire is forcing me to interact with scary grocery store people! rude.**

Dan replies almost instantly.

**@AmazingPhil shut up and get the carrots, you imbecile**

Phil shakes his head, laughing, and walks out onto the road, his head still in his phone. A fan has asked Dan how he’s contributing to the family meal, and Dan’s taken a selfie of himself by the telephone with a thumbs up. He’s captioned the picture:  **i’m in charge of pizza**

The thing is, Phil’s yellow hoodie is pretty visible in the selfie. The fandom has exploded.

When Phil reaches the store, he grabs a pack of baby carrots and strolls down the dairy aisle, aghast at all the different types of milk there are. And,  _good lord,_  is that how much a pack of milk actually costs? He realises now that leaving the grocery shopping to Dan all this time has been a bit of an oversight on his part. He calls his wretched roommate immediately.

“Got the carrots?” Dan asks cheekily.

“I don’t know which milk to buy,” Phil  ~~whines~~  says.

“I’ll send you a picture of our current one.”

Phil breaths out through his nose. “And what’s your excuse for sending out that picture?”

“Phil,” Dan says seriously. “If we’re wearing each other’s hoodies and cuddling non-platonically on the couch, the fandom needs to know.”

Phil bites back a laugh. “I was wearing my own hoodie,” he protests.

“Well, we don’t have to tell them  _that_.”

Phil shakes his head in disbelief, but Dan can’t see him, so he hangs up. As promised, Dan sends him a picture of their current carton of milk and Phil grabs three cartons of the same brand and pays for them and the baby carrots. Then he’s out on the road and scrolling down Twitter again.

A fan - one of the accounts that he follows - has tweeted:

**i bet they’re in love and dont even know it yet, the stupid oafs**

Phil scrolls a bit down, where the same fan has written:

**sometimes i think dan is the cutest but then i remember about cats**

And Phil can’t help but agree.

As it turns out, Dan’s idea of “making a salad” is to cut open the pack of baby carrots and leave them on the coffee table beside the cheese and pepperoni pizza.

“You’re going to get a coronary heart disease and die,” remarks Phil pleasantly, popping a carrot into his mouth.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” shoots back Dan. “If my heart were to fail, there are a remarkable number of teenage girls who’d willingly give me theirs.”

Phil stares at him. “You disgust me.”

“I’m only joking,” Dan laughs. “Are you still mad about the hoodie thing?” He says that around a piece of pizza, so Phil barely catches it.

“I wasn’t mad,” corrects Phil. “I just think we’ve got to be careful, Dan.”

“Why?” A shrug. “It’s not like we’ve anything to hide.”

Dan has a point, and Phil isn’t really sure why it bothers him so. He lets it drop, and they eat in silence, browsing Twitter and Tumblr on their respective phones. After the meal, Dan suggests they play Five Nights at Freddie’s, but only half-heartedly.

“I dunno,” Phil says reluctantly, scratching at the back of his head. “I feel guilty playing anything without making a video of it.”

“I  _know_ ,” enthuses Dan. “It’s like the fans have infiltrated our gaming life.”

Phil chuckles. They’re on the sofa again, this time on opposite sides. While Phil had nipped out to the store, Dan had helpfully charged his laptop, so he has it settled on his lap now. Dan’s munching on a baby carrot and looking thoughtful. “We let them in, actually,” says Phil lightly.

“It’s almost like they know us better than we know ourselves,” laments Dan. “Just the other day I was reading a fic - ”

“You still read fanfiction?” Phil starts giggling and looks up from his laptop. “You told me you stopped.”

Dan’s cheeks are a deep red and he looks disconcerted. “Well. Y'know, when there’s nothing else to do…”

“When the hour between one and two passes too slowly?” teases Phil.

“Shut up.” It comes out as a mumble. Dan looks sufficiently embarrassed, so Phil lets it go. (For now.)

“You were saying?” he prompts.

“I mean, some of the authors get the dialogue rather,” Dan gulps, “Rather spot-on, I must say.”

“Well, we do make recordings of ourselves for a living. They have a plethora of material to study.” Phil can’t deny he’s having a nice amount of fun teasing Dan.

“But when they write us interacting with each other…” Dan’s cheeks are red again. “It’s so fucking  _cheesy_. But that’s how we  _talk_.”

“I know.” Phil starts laughing, realising that Dan’s come to terms with what Phil had only accepted this morning. “The theories that we’re dating aren’t exactly baseless, you know.”

Dan runs a hand through his hair, seemingly perplexed, and something tugs at Phil’s belly. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that - did he go too far? He hasn’t said anything wrong though, he tries justifying. He was just pointing out the obvious.

Nevertheless, they don’t bring it up for the rest of the day and most of the night.

It’s two AM.

Phil’s trying to pull an all-nighter again, but he once again didn’t prepare well enough and his laptop is dead. They’re meeting up with Chris and PJ tomorrow, so maybe it would be a good idea to sleep now. Instead, he’s peeking into the kitchen and frowning in distaste. They had Chinese takeaway and the rest of the baby carrots for dinner, and remainders of the takeaway are still scattered across the dinner table.

Dan can be a right pig sometimes. Now he’s fallen asleep and left the cleaning to Phil.  _Again._

Whipping around in defiance, Phil marches back into the hall and falls bodily into the couch. He doesn’t care if the apartment smells tomorrow, Dan’s going to have to clean up behind himself for once.

Footsteps thud somewhere in the apartment, and a door is pulled open.

Dan.

“You awake?” his roommate calls sleepily, wandering into the hall and blinking in confusion under the bright lights. “What’re you doin’? You were makin’ a… a racket.”

Phil frowns. “I wasn’t, Dan. Go back to bed.”

“Don’ tell me what to do,” objects Dan, perching on the far end of the couch. “You should go to sleep,” he says importantly.

“Look who’s talking,” mumbles Phil.

Dan grins at him, small but blinding. There’s a dimple in his cheek that should be illegal. Reluctantly, Phil pulls himself up to a sitting position and pats the space beside him. Dan plomps down there and leans against Phil, sighing into his neck.

“I was thinking,” Phil begins.

“Oh no,” Dan says loudly, sounding rather awake now. “Why would you want to do  _that_?”

Phil struggles not to smile. He’s trying to be  _serious_  here, for God’s sake.

“I was thinking,” he tries again. Dan doesn’t interrupt. “How would I know if I liked you, Dan?”

“Of course you like me. I was a delight to have in class, didn’t you know?”

Phil starts laughing, and then shakes his head. “You know what I mean.”

At this, Dan pokes at his belly. “You get butterflies over here, apparently.”

Phil thinks about that. Then he says, slowly: “And how would I know if I were, say, in love with you?”

Dan goes rigid. He leans away, turns to look at Phil properly. “Jesus Christ, Phil,” he says, his voice low and gruff, “It’s two in the fucking morning. Is now the right time?”

Phil just shrugs. “I mean,” he struggles to explain, because Dan looks like he might bail at any given moment, and Phil’s been thinking about this far too much to keep it for another day. “I’m almost twenty-eight. I’ve been living with you for the past four years and I don’t plan on moving out any time soon.”

“That doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“I don’t have anyone  _close_  to a girlfriend.”

“You could ask Louise,” says Dan, sounding a bit desperate now. He’s looking everywhere but at Phil. “She mentioned once that she has some friends she could have you meet.”

“The thought of dating a girl makes my stomach turn,” confesses Phil.

 "Well, maybe you’re gay then!“ exclaims Dan.

"I’m not gay,” answers Phil automatically. Then he thinks about it for a moment, and realises he isn’t. Not really. He just really, really likes to cuddle with Dan. And he’s noticed the boy’s lips, and the curve of his hips, and his pretty smile and how artfully attractive he looks when his hair is rumpled and curly. He hasn’t noticed that on anyone else. Maybe he isn’t gay. Maybe he’s just… Dan-sexual.

Phil feels his heart pounding. He supposes that crisis has finally caught.

They sit in silence for a while - a very long while, and to Phil’s surprise, Dan doesn’t run away. In fact, he’s the one who breaks the spell over them.

“You have butterflies, I think, and, um. Like. You want to be with them, all the time.” Dan looks at his hands. “When you’re in love.”

“I want to be with you all the time,” says Phil. He isn’t even aware that he’s talking out loud.

Dan looks up, alarmed. Clears his throat. Looks back down. “And you want them, er. Close. You want to touch them, kiss them maybe.”

Dan probably thinks that’s the deal-breaker, from the way Phil hears him say it.

Then Dan continues.

“I kind of want to kiss you, sometimes.”

Phil feels something almost stutter in his chest. He hopes desperately that that wasn’t his heart.

“When it’s late and I feel terribly lonely,” Dan’s saying, his voice so soft Phil can ignore it if he wants to, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t. “I remember how you were there when I dropped out of college, and I like to pretend that you’re still there for me. I like to pretend you’re next to me when I’m asleep, so I won’t have to wake up alone.”

_Yes_ , Phil’s thinking.  _Yes_.

“And when I get off.” Dan’s cheeks aren’t even red. He looks up, looks at Phil, straight in the eye. Dark brown eyes. Pretty brown eyes. “I want you there then, too. Want your fingers round me.  _In_  me.”

“Shit,” Phil swears under his breath. He can’t look away from Dan now. His brain has shut down, and the thoughts swimming through his head are all either  _shit_  or  _yes._

“I don’t know.” Dan covers his face with his hands and leans forward. “I don’t know,” he mumbles again. When his shoulders begin to shake Phil realises the boy may be crying.

He lurches forward, grabs Dan’s hands and pulls them firmly away from his face, which is screwed up now, red and blotchy. “Dan. Hey, wait, no. Don’t cry, Dan.” His eyes are tightly shut and he’s biting into his bottom lip so badly it’s turned white. “Please,” Phil breathes, pulling him in, into his chest.

“I’m scared.” Dan draws back and opens his eyes. He lets go of his bottom lip, and it trembles. “I’m so fucking scared, because  _fuck_. I’ve never… I didn’t expect to.”

Dan doesn’t have to go on, because Phil gets it. Phil nods. He thinks of all the quiet days, and the nights when all he’s wanted was a body next to his. To have and to hold. And now he recognises that not as a longing for anybody, but a longing for Dan. Dan, who’s sitting in front of him with a desolate expression on his face, looking lost and vulnerable with his heart laid bare.

They could ruin this. Of that, Phil is aware. They are electric; they would either work spectacularly well or explode and leave a mess everywhere. This could end  _horribly_.  Or it couldn’t. And it’s Phil’s call.

So he leans in.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> leave me a review or the bees will get you. 
> 
> [in other news, [my tumblr](http://oopsiwritefanficdonttellmum.tumblr.com). :D]


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